


King of Kings

by Nifflers_and_Crookshanks



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Love them, Romance, Teenage Dorks, otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 21:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14005614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nifflers_and_Crookshanks/pseuds/Nifflers_and_Crookshanks
Summary: Nakia's is always changing her perceptions of T'Challa.





	King of Kings

_He is a boy._

That is Nakia's first thought when she sees him, this prince. T'Challa, son of a King and the pride of Wakanda, the future Black Panther, is nothing more than a boy. Yes, he is older than her - three years or so, she guesses - but he is still much younger than what she expected. His face is soft and round, shoulders narrow and body thin. He is just another thirteen year old kid, even if he is a royal one. Nakia is almost disappointed. The River Tribe elders always commented on how much the young prince resembled T'Chaka after her uncle returned from the council meetings, but she has seen the King, the Black Panther, and she does not see him in this boy's face. 

"Nakia, go play with the other children," Her great uncle tells her, nudging her to where T'Challa stands, grinning with the boy from the Border Tribe in a corner of the room - W'Kabi, Nakia thinks he's called. She knows she should, Nakia's used to being dismissed by her elders when they start to talk of more serious matters -  "these words are not fit for the ears of children" she remembers her grandmother insisting just the other day - but her legs won't move. She's still only ten and they are thirteen, and they are tall - shorter than she expected, but tall enough to scare her, tall enough to remind her how little she is.

"Come with me, child," The Queen offers, looking down and extending a hand, and even though she is a queen and a stranger to Nakia her smile is warm and tender, and the little girl complies. "They will be nice to you, I promise," She says, her hand on Nakia's back guiding her across the room. 

Nakia questions everything as she makes the short walk across the room, Ramonda's steady gait too fast for her liking. Why did she have to be there? Why were the children forced to come along to a stuffy gathering if it was meant for the elders to talk? Why couldn't the ground open up and swallow her whole right there? Bast, why?!

"Boys, this is Nakia. She is the daughter of the River Tribe," She always hated that phrasing, but it carried meaning at least, "I'm sure you'll look after her," The Queen says, though neither boy looked particularly happy at the prospect. Nakia wanted to say she didn't need looking after, she wasn't a baby, she didn't need constant supervision and she certainly didn't want it, but she decided that was an argument best abandoned - the Queen was being kind.

"I'm T'Challa," The prince introduces himself, after meeting his mother's pointed look. 

"I know," Nakia responds before she could stop herself, and W'Kabi snorted. What followed was an awkward silence, until W'Kabi returned the conversation to what he and his friend had been previously talking about. Nakia just stood there, watching what everyone else was doing. All the adults were talking, the tribes' representatives mingling with elders from other settlements while the children stood at the fringes of the room, giggling away.  

"You don't look very happy," W'Kabi points out when there was a lull in the conversation. It takes Nakia a minute to realise he was talking to her. 

"I'm bored," She says simply. 

"It is boring," T'Challa agrees, perhaps trying to make up for his friend's bluntness, "Do you want to see the view from the garden terrace?"

That was how Nakia found herself in a lush courtyard garden, her toes over the edge of the wall, looking at the city below her feet. The towering buildings darkened in the sunset, stained red and gold as the light faded. T'Challa smiled faintly at her, just as W'Kabi snuck up behind him and gave him a playful shove over the edge, all the while holding onto his jacket and cackling. 

"I thought I was going to watch you die!" She cries, though her grin betrays her amusement. T'Challa returns her grin, before tackling W'Kabi. Nakia watches them wrestle each other, joining in on their laughter. 

_He is just a boy, a child, just like you._

 

* * *

  _He is a prince._

Nakia is reminded of it on a regular basis, her friend's regal status. At nineteen he is meant to be preparing for the time he will take on the leadership of his country, _their_ country, not spending all his days training with W'Kabi and Xoliswa and running about with Nakia when he isn't. At nineteen he should be studying politics, the law and international relations, not perfecting battle techniques. 

"My father used to always tell me that the Black Panther must be the best and fiercest warrior in the world, but now he says I should not focus on the warrior aspect of my role," He tells her one day, as they sit on a hill looking over the river and the River Tribe settlement in the distance. "He says as a prince I must not waste my time fighting when I should be educating myself in things like statecraft," Nakia knows how much he dislikes that particular notion. 

"For us to be strong you need to be strong, I am sure the king knows this, just as I am sure he wants you to improve all your skills - not just the ones you enjoy," She says after a while, "You will need to know how to lead the council when you are king, that is what your father means,"

"I have years and years until I am king," He bristles, "but Baba can not be Black Panther for much longer, and I am not ready,"

"Not ready, yet," She chides, and at last T'challa relents and smiles at her. "Sometimes you are too serious, you know," Nakia continues, "Not everything is so terrible and sad, and not everything is about you!" She drives her point home but poking him in his chest, a gentle teasing that does not help to return laughter to his eyes. "Tell me what you did today then, my prince," He never likes her using his title, but he doesn't seem to have the energy to correct her this time.

"I read in the garden, I sat in on a meeting and then I trained all afternoon," He answers simply. 

"With Xoliswa and W'Kabi?" 

"Just W'Kabi, Xoliswa is spending more time with Okoye and Ayo, learning some moves from them, she wants to be in the Dora Milaje," Nakia vaguely remembers Okoye from school, a girl from the border tribe four or five years older, who was picked to train to be a Dora at only seventeen. She thinks she remembers that W'Kabi had a crush on her, but doesn't recall the details. 

"I am sure she will be successful, she is very good," 

"So are you, Nakia," T'Challa points out, and she rolls her eyes, "Why don't you train to be part of the Dora Milaje? You are a good fighter, you could do it," 

"What? And have to spend all my days around you and your father, making sure no one gets killed? No thank you!" She chuckles, "Besides, the Black Panther almost always picks a wife from the Dora Milaje and I would rather not give you any chances," He does truly laugh at that, but Nakia misses the slight blush on his cheeks revealing something more. 

"My mother was not a Dora,"

"No, but almost all the queens before were. There was a time when all of the Dora Milaje were concubines of the king,"

"Thousands of years ago - **_allegedly!_** And your fears would rely on me wanting to marry you,"

"Well, I'm just making sure I am on the other side of Africa when it is time for you to choose a wife and you will already be married when I have to represent the River Tribe,"  

"So you're still intent on leaving?"

"Yes," Nakia replies, but she sees a faint look of disappointment grace T'Challa's face and does not elaborate, so silence follows. "I think," She says eventually, "that we need to have some fun," 

"And how are we to have fun, Nakia?" T'Challa inquires, but she's already sliding down the hill, stretching out her foot to reach a rock at the waters' edge. 

"How do you think?" T'Challa hesitates despite himself and by the time he resolves to join her Nakia is already waist deep in the gentle current, "Don't tell me panthers are scared of water!" She taunts, and is met with a splash of water to the face. 

Later, when she lays her clothes out to dry, her great aunt tells her she should be more careful, more reserved. Nakia may flirt with whoever she wishes, except T'Challa. 

"It is not flirting, auntie, it is just friendly teasing," She insists, but even she is not so convinced of that anymore - she would never act the way she does with anyone else but him. Perhaps it is just because they are so close. 

"I would remind you that he is the prince, child," Her aunt replies, "One day he will be king, and panthers are not social creatures, they hunt alone," 

_Yes, I know, auntie,_ Nakia thinks.  _He is a prince, and he has a duties and troubles he can not share._

* * *

_He is a warrior._  

There is no ritual combat between the old Black Panther and the new when T'Chaka passes the sacred right to T'Challa, but the new one's warrior heart is clear to see. At twenty-five he thinks he is ready, and his father has known he is for years. Only the royal family, the tribal representatives and their successors attend the ceremony at the base of Mount Kanda, the origin place for the heart shaped herbs. There can not be two panthers, and so they watch their king kneel and drink from the cup as his powers are drained from his body, never to return. The prince is bare chested when he stands before them all, beginning the ancient prayer to Bast, and Nakia can not help but feel a sense of pride as he prepares himself to enter the sacred halls and consume the heart shaped herb. 

Even before he is given the powers, Nakia thinks he is the epitome of the Black Panther. Everything about him resonates with the word warrior, but he stands out even when he is surrounded by them. Half of Wakanda are warriors, herself included, but there is something about T'Challa the emits a regal sense of power, authority, bravery. Okoye, now the general of the Dora Milaje, is a warrior - the best in the world, it is rumoured, and Nakia does not doubt it, - but she is stern and unyielding while T'Challa is fluid and swift. W'Kabai, now the chief of the Border Tribe, is a warrior, but he is aggressive and belligerent when T'Challa is mild-mannered and even tempered. It is easy to underestimate him, but that would be a mistake. While Nakia can fight like a warrior, and Okoye and W'Kabi can fight and think like one, the prince is the only one she has ever met who feels the spirit of a warrior deep within their very soul. Others feel it too, when they are near him, when he shows the heart behind his reserve, red and bleeding and oh-so determined to fight on. 

"Will you wait for me?" He asks when the ceremony has concluded, when the elders begin to leave and T'Challa is about to begin his journey. 

"It may take a while for you to wake up, Son," T'Chaka tells him, overhearing the request. 

"She will wait," T'Challa assures him, his eyes not leaving Nakia's. Ramonda moves to stand beside her, Princess Shuri in tow, and her eyes flicker between the pair with a knowing smile on her face. Nakia wants to tell her that she is mistaken, that there is nothing between her and the prince, but at the same time it feels like a lie. There is something, she is just not quite sure what is yet. 

As Nakia watches T'Challa turn and walk away, her eyes are trained on his muscled back - unconsciously making note of how powerful his movements are. 

_He is a true warrior, in every way._

* * *

_He is a man._

Nakia has always known this. He is a grown adult male, therefore he is a man by definition. She's always been at least partially aware of how he's matured over the years, how his childish softness has turned into hardened lines as he filled out and grew. She never used to pay it much attention, but then feelings grew as they often did and while she never **_obsessed_ ** over it, she might have been considered hyper-aware of his more masculine aspects. Now, however, now it's hard to focus on anything else but him all those features, especially as he kisses a trail down her neck, beard scratching as his hands move upwards at her sides. 

She first caught him looking at her in a different way when she was seventeen and he was just about twenty. His eyes had been even darker than normal and fixed on her, she had passed it off as nothing, and when she eventually could not deny what she had recognised she was convinced that he could not of helped it, he was a young man barely out of his teens and was probably just as sex-obsessed as she was being a teenager. It didn't mean he found her, specifically, attractive, she was just his friend after all. By that logic, those thoughts he inspired in her head could also have been sparked by anyone, it just **_happened_ ** to be a childhood friend who she clearly had only platonic feelings for. It meant nothing when she found herself staring at various muscular parts of him or focusing on his lips far too often, because that was just hormones, obviously. 

Five years later, just a month after T'Challa became the Black Panther, they finally started dating. It wasn't long before they noticed their hands always seemed to linger on each other, attempting to perpetuate physical contact for as long as possible, or how much of the time they spent simply ogling each other. The tension was about to snap, and Nakia was a little overwhelmed when it did. 

She's not thinking very clearly when her hands roam across his chest, making a small noise somewhere in her throat when his hands brush over a breast, and then she's straddling him, kissing his neck and out of breath. His lips are as hungry as hers, however, and soon she is pulled up to meet his mouth as strong hands grip her tighter. Nakia lets out a moan when she feels him beneath her and when they pull away and meet each other's eyes he does not even feign embarrassment, grinning at her as he struggles for breath. They share a smile then, and Nakia thinks her heart is about to burst when he kisses her cheek, murmuring into her skin "I love you," like it's a secret. 

"I love you too," The words flow out naturally, "And I want you," She adds, nipping his ear. He replies with a laugh, and before she knows it he is on top of her and her legs are wrapped around him. That is the exact moment they are interrupted by three loud knocks on the door. 

"Brother, dinner will be in five minutes!" Shuri yells from the hallway while the pair just stare at each other, not daring to breathe. "Mother says Nakia is welcoming to stay and eat with us," 

"Thank you!" T'Challa replies, before they both break down into a fit of laughter. 

When they finally recover from the fright Shuri gave them, they lie side by side on the bed holding hands, just basking in the presence of the other. Nakia drinks in his face, studies every features and feels as though she loves him even more, will love him more and more everyday. She sees her future completely intertwined with his, walking side by side through the obstacles life will offer. She has never wanted children of her own, but in his face she sees their father and realises that if she ever marries, she will marry him. 

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, and Nakia blushes despite herself, evoking a grin in T'Challa. 

"How glad I am that you grew up,"

_He is a man, and he is the man I want. He is the man I want for the rest of my life._

* * *

  _He is a king._

Nakia's heart breaks for T'Challa when she learns of T'Chaka's death. Her heart breaks for all of them, for Queen Ramonda and Princess Shuri too, but especially T'Challa. They were friends, they were lovers, she knows him, knows the pain he is feeling, she can not help how she feels his hurts as her own. The years have not changed that, at least. She wonders if the years have not changed his aversion to the throne either. T'Challa has always rejected politics, his interest has never been in Wakanda's throne, it has always been in it's people, Nakia can not imagine him feeling anything but dread at the prospect of his coronation. He makes no mention of this to her, he is a solid statue sitting beside her, mostly silent and still.  

"Thank you for coming with me," T'Challa says after a while, and Nakia is sure he has thanked her already, but accepts it again. 

"It is an honour," Nakia responds, neglecting to call 'my prince' or whatever decorum dictates she should. She does not know how to address him anymore. Should a friend call a prince by his name or his title? Should a lover use his first name or "royal highness"? It is more difficult for an ex, Nakia has found. There is a familiarity there that is still present, forever unresolved, but which is more painful? Continue the informality or abandon it? Perpetuate the intimate relationship or move on as though it never existed?

Nakia watches the coronation, dances at the falls and sees the Black Panther, stripped of his powers, fight the leader of the Jabari - "the great gorilla" they call him.  There is that well-known pride Nakia feels as T'Challa stands, victorious and king - _her_ king. _He is a king now_ , she thinks, safe in believing that she has witnessed the last ritual combat he will ever face and knowing that he has won. She is overwhelmed by the admiration she feels for him - _love_ a small part of her mind chides. _It's still love, you know it is._  

He will be a good king, Nakia knows. He will protect Wakanda, undoubtedly, and maybe, just maybe, she might convince him to protect the rest of the world as well. Their continent needs help, now as much as ever in their history, and she is determined to make the rest of her people see, determined to make T'Challa see. She has seen enough of the world in her time as a War Dog to understand that it is a broken place, full of broken people who need someone like him to step forward to lead them and shield them. When she sees him now, surrounded with an air of authority and power, she thinks that people would flock to Wakanda in droves to have him as their ruler, their king. 

_His reign will be different_ , she can sense it, and she's sure others can too.  _He will be the greatest king Wakanda has ever known._   

* * *

_He is a king of kings_. 

She watches him emerge from the pain, the heart-wrenching, aching pain, a king. He is not glorious and triumphant, he sees no victory in the defeat of his cousin, in the murder of his uncle, but he rises from these trials stronger, harder. 

Nakia had once thought T'Challa was only a boy, and she was right then, but now he is a man, _her_ man, she tentatively thinks. Nakia had once thought T'Challa was everything a prince should be, and she was right, he still is, loyal and dependable, determined to fulfil every single one of his duties regardless of the cost. Nakia had once thought T'Challa was the very definition of a warrior, and she is right, yes, but he is also so much more than that - in truth he is the definition of a king. A king of kings, greatest among men. He is power and honour, duty and love, and she could not be more proud of him and all that he has become. He has grown before her eyes and she is so very grateful to have witnessed his transformation. 

She is beside him when he opens Wakanda to the world, when he extends his hand to all the helpless and suffering, and she reassures him that, yes, this is a good choice, you know it is. It is not longer after that she vows to be beside him forever. It feels as though she has always been at his side, in some way or other, but this secures it, promises that she will be there until and beyond the time they walk the astral plane together. T'Challa had once told her she would make a great queen if she were not so stubborn, and when he proposes she warns she will not change herself for him. 

"I would never ask that of you, Nakia," He says, and Nakia supposes that as long as she supports him, guides him, then she will fulfil her role as queen well enough. 

"Then you have yourself a wife, my king," It once felt strange and awkward to address him by his title, but not anymore. It makes sense to do so, he is her king after all, king of everything that she is just as much as she has always been his queen.  

_He will be the greatest king the world has ever known, and she will be at his side every step of the way._  

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know, but I hope it was alright.


End file.
